


three sizes too big

by swcnsmagic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Emma and her insecurities, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 03:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11728962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swcnsmagic/pseuds/swcnsmagic
Summary: Killian wakes up to Emma wearing his shirt. No more words needed.





	three sizes too big

**Author's Note:**

> first of all, i'd like to apologise for being M.I.A for nearly 2 months. some stuff happened in my life which meant i lost all motivation to write and i got really down & my mental health suffered quite a bit.  
> second of all, i'd like to reassure anyone who is still potentially waiting for an update on we're just strangers. i promise i will not abandon that fic, i've got stuff planned for it and i really think it could be good.  
> the same can't be said for work for it. i hate to say but the story doesn't inspire me like it did initially and i feel like i just want to focus on we're just strangers because i can ses it going further and my actual quality of writing being better because i'm enjoying it.  
> thirdly and finally, this is just a random fluffy one shot (which may turn into a 2 parter if i decide to get around to writing a smutty addition) because my muse wanted emma in one of killian's shirts. enjoy (i hope!)

The first thing Killian woke up to was Emma’s face buried in his chest. The second thing he noticed was the way her hair completely covered her face. What it took him several moments to notice was that for once, after a night of such passion, their bare skin was obstructed by a layer of thin cotton. Thin cotton that happened to be Killian’s shirt. Or Emma’s shirt. Depending on how you looked at the current situation.

Pushing the covers aside gently, trying desperately not to wake her, he revealed one of his black shirts hanging loosely from Emma’s form, landing somewhere close to the mid-upper thigh region. Unbeknownst is the reason why she’d decided to don a (his) shirt; never before had he awoken to such a scenario.

He wasn’t about to complain.

For as much as he’d heard about women in this realm wearing their significant other’s clothes, Emma had appeared to be in the minority that didn’t. It was a shame, truthfully.

In the pale light that was streaming through the curtains, Emma’s skin appeared to glow. Killian brushed aside the hair covering the side of her face, and was presented with soft, yet defiant, cheekbones. The ambience of their room did wonders for her appearance and her mindset, always seeming to put her at ease whether she was lucid or not. His Emma was more relaxed in sleep, less afraid of the world outside and the dangers it presents every day. The worry that marred her face ever so slightly in the day simply dissipated once sleep took hold of her. He’d spent many a morning basking in a much better radiance to that of a bright day. There had yet to be a day with her when Killian wasn’t left breathless at some point by her beauty.

He ran his fingers through the blonde tresses reverently, relishing in something so simple, yet utterly beautiful at the same time. For perhaps five minutes, he continued to do so before Emma started to stir. Her soft sighs steadily turned into a series of yawns, and then she was stretching out beside him, wrapping her arms around his torso tighter. “Morning,” she mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.

“Good morning, love,” he smiled. “Sleep well?” She turned her head to look up at him properly, and returned the small smile.

“Very. I think something tired me out last night.” Her lips curled into a shy smirk at the mention of the previous evening. He chuckled lightly.

“Something, love, or someone?”

“Sometimes I forget he’s real,” she said quietly.

The teasing atmosphere quickly vanished as fast as it had arrived, and Killian’s hand on her waist tightened. After these many months, there were still moments where one of them could doubt that what their life had become was real. Such darkness could never be vanquished, not fully. There were some places even the light couldn’t reach, and that is where the darkness thrived. Hidden corners of their minds where memories were too painful to bear, deep scars on their hearts caused by the love they’d given; these were perfect hiding spots.

And yet, all it took was a simple look at one another to remember that they’d found each other no matter what. Through thick and thin, two kindred spirits had remained true to each other throughout everything. He was not confused in the slightest at Emma’s words. They were some he had heard too many times since the darkness, and each time they were strung together in a sentence, his heart clenched horribly. Tearful goodbyes and desperate ‘last’ kisses had frequented their lives more than most. He couldn't blame her for losing a grip on the present when the past was still too painful to bear.

“But I am,” he reminded her gently. “I’ll not be seeking to change that any time soon.” She buried her face into the crook of his neck once more, clinging to him as if she was scared they would be ripped apart at any given moment. “Hey,” he said, brushing aside the hair that had fallen across her face again, “I promised you that there would be no getting rid of me. I meant that. I love you too much.”

The hopeful smile he loved adorned her face once more. “I love you, too,” she said happily, before craning her neck up to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Speaking of love, I am rather taken to your current attire,” Killian grinned. Emma’s cheeks flushed slightly.

“I needed a drink in the night and I was cold.”

“I’m disappointed to have not seen you in a shirt of mine before,” he replied truthfully. She _did_ look quite fetching.

“They’re, like, three sizes too big. I look frumpy.”

“On the contrary, darling. I happen to think that my shirt looks better on you than it ever has on me.”

“Not that your ego could do with another boost, but that’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Please, do continue,” he nodded in mock seriousness, earning a chuckle and a light smack on his chest from Emma. “But joking matters aside, are you ever going to believe any of my compliments?”

“I don't know.” The shame in her voice broke him.

“I’ve never lied when I’ve said you’re beautiful, or strong, or amazing, or the love of my life.”

“I know.”

“You can tell me what’s wrong,”

“It’s nothing.”

“Emma.” She was looking away from him again, had moved to sit up with her back to him and when he moved next to her, he saw glassy eyes and a trembling lip. “Oh, Emma,” he said quietly, pulling her into his lap and holding her against his chest. “It’s alright, love.”

“But it isn’t,” she choked out. Stroking her back, he spoke against her head.

“I assume this problem stems from your rough beginnings, aye?” She nodded. “I remember me saying I’d love to know more about them. Could you enlighten me?” Emma sat upright again, but avoided his gaze.

“Growing up an orphan, in this world as any other, you learn to toughen yourself up.” Killian agreed silently.

“But some things, no matter how tough you are, some things just gnaw away at you.

“Throughout all the schools I attended, from elementary to high school, words would be whispered behind hands as I walked by, sometimes louder so I could hear them. They were always names. _Abandoned. Waste of space. Outcast._

“As I got older the insults got worse. _Ugly. Lonely. Pathetic. Unwanted. Worthless._ You can only hear those words so many times before you believe them.”

Learning details of Emma’s past often left Killian heartbroken at what she had to endure, what he wasn’t able to save her from. Now he fully understood why she couldn’t take a compliment. “You’ve had these beliefs drilled into your head so much that anything else just seems fake,” he acknowledged. The small nod and avoidance of his gaze again confirmed his statement. “I can promise you that I will spend the rest of my days trying to help you to believe that you are none of those things,” he said seriously.

Emma found her voice again. “Sometimes I believe you. The way you look at me… that… no one… I don’t —”

“I know, Emma.”

He did.

“You look at me with… awe? Or something.”

“When I look at you, I am the happiest version of myself. Nothing else matters when you’re in the room.”

“I believe that. Sort of. I think.”

“Making progress, then?”

“You make it seem easy,” she smiled.

“You make me happy,” he said honestly.

“You’re so good at… _this_. Always knowing what to say,” she mumbled.

“But your actions speak a thousand words, darling.”

“They do?”

“Aye, they do. You turned me into a Dark One out of love. You came to the Underworld, came to save me, out of love. Small gestures too, like holding my hand, or hugging me, or even just smiling at me. They’re all out of love.” True to her nature, Emma was unable to form a response longer than three words.

“I love you.”

“You know I love you more than anything.”

“I know, Killian.”

She did.

He cupped her cheek lightly and tilted her head up fully and leaned down to kiss her softly, gently. It conveyed all the love and devotion they both felt, the passion ebbing and flowing as the sea did on a calm day. “I really do like seeing you in my shirts,” was the first thing Killian said after they broke the kiss. Emma suddenly sprung from his embrace, standing at the end of the bed.

“It’s comfortable!” she laughed, twirling around a few times modelling the shirt. When her eyes landed back on Killian’s face, his face glowed with amusement and adoration.

“You know what else I really like?” The loving smile had curled into a wicked smirk, with an eyebrow raised and his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“I have a few ideas,” she smirked back. He rose from the bed swiftly to stand before her.

“I really do like seeing you in nothing.”

“I suggest we amend the situation,” she grinned, biting her lip.

They did.


End file.
